


In The Mind's Eye

by afteriwake



Series: The Academy for Exceptional Youths [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Death, Destruction, Gen, Grim Reapers, Kid Sherlock, London, Pre-War, Prophetic Dreams, Scared Sherlock, determined Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8377786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: On the eve of being sent to the prestigious Crispin Academy for Exceptional Youths, Sherlock has an unsettling dream...or more aptly, a potential premonition. The first in a string of many, he is to find.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my shorter entry for the 2016 round of the Spook Me Ficathon in case I don't finish my WIP on time. The piece of art it was inspired by is "[The Death](https://s14.postimg.org/5f59tt1r5/Grim_Reaper_1.jpg)" by laura-csajagi. It's not a very long story so I apologize for that, but I think it's a very strong one. I gave it the warning I did because while it's not _overly_ graphic, the vision that Sherlock has is a bit unsettling.

_Screams...terrible, thunderous screams, rolling over and over each other, the volume of them rising and rising to such loud levels that they rose over the air raid sirens. Soon the sirens were drowned out and all he could hear were the sounds of human suffering._

_All around, he could see suffering. Fires...fires burning, fires from the sky, fires on the ground. Skin bubbling and burning on the people on fire, skin oozing and the smells...dear God, he could smell the smells. The acrid smell of hair burning, or skin burning, and all he wanted was to make t go away, to make it stop._

_Buildings were collapsing and the screams were increasing. Trapped...people were trapped. London was falling...London was burning…_

_And in the middle of it all was a figure. A figure in a Chinaman’s hat, holding a scythe. Where he walked, people fell, lifeless. The figure moved closer to him, and he backed away in horror as more people fell dead to the ground. As what remained of the sun hit behind the figure and its shadow was cast forward he looked on with horror and saw it was filled with the dead._

_He found himself stumbling over rubble and falling over, landing on his arse as the figure approached. The figure stood over him, his hat about to be taken off, his dark maw to be shown. “Sherlock...” it said, the voice that sounded neither masculine nor feminine said, sounding instead like the end of all things as its scythe reached down towards him…_

“William!” 

William blinked at the bright light that was on his room. He looked around, taking in the comforts of his room. His room, his home, his mummy at the door. He was safe. Safe and sound, thank goodness. He glanced at the door to see his father had joined her, tying the knot at the belt of his dressing gown tighter. He did not look pleased to be awoken at this late time of night. Sherlock fumbled for his spectacles on his night table and then set them on the bridge of his nose and suddenly everything was in a much sharper clarity. “I’m sorry, Mummy, Father.”

“I’m sure it’s just nerves,” his mummy said, coming into his room and sitting on the edge of his bed near him. She gave him a reassuring smile and reached over to touch his face. “It’s not every day a young man goes off to such a prestigious place such as Crispin’s. Just think, you’ll finally join Mycroft there.”

William gave a bit of a sour face. “Like he’ll be happy to see me,” he mumbled.

“Perhaps not,” his father said. “But you’re every bit a genius as he is. You deserve to be there.”

William’s mother cupped his face. “My young William, all grown up and only eight years old. Just think, you’re just starting your adventure, and soon Mycroft will be ending his time there. You’ll only have a year together to have adventures, unless he stays for university.”

William’s sour face just deepened. “Wonderful.”

His father chuckled slightly. “I bet that was what his nightmare was all about, Violet. Mycroft is all but a stranger to William, for all intents and purposes. This will be their chance to bond, but only if they actually get to know each other as brothers should. But there’s bound to be jealousy.”

“I suppose so,” his mother said with a soft smile. She leaned forward and kissed William’s forehead. “But I have faith they’ll get along well enough.” She got off the bed. “Now, lay back down and I’ll tuck you back in and you can go back to sleep with more pleasant dreams this time, all right?”

William nodded. “I’ll try,” he said.

“That’s a good boy.” William laid back down in the bed and his mother tucked him in tight, then pressed a kiss to his temple and smoothed his hair back. “Good night, my little prince.” She and his father moved away, and then the light was switched off. William shut his eyes, but they didn’t move away from the door completely before they began speaking again. “Siger, is this really best?”

“It’s in the countryside, Violet. It’s simply not safe for him to be here.”

“I know,” his mother said with a sigh. “But Mycroft has been...different. You’ve seen it. Couldn’t we send William somewhere else?”

“Crispin Academy is the best place for him. And Mycroft has always been different. You know that.”

“I suppose.” There was a pause. “I hope we’re making the right decision.”

“We are, Violet. We are.”

The voices dropped away then, and Sherlock reached over and clutched his teddy a little closer. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to Crispin’s Academy for Exceptional Youths anymore, he thought to himself. He’d been excited before, but now he was apprehensive. He knew he was different, but if he was the same type of different as his brother had been and now his mother was worried his brother was a _new_ different, and not an altogether good one, and the dream he had tied into it, perhaps that was _not_ the best place for him at all.

Very well, then. First chance he got, he would escape.

Simple as that.


End file.
